


I Wish...

by sarveniraven



Series: Drabble Dump for Productivity 2k15 [1]
Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M, Into the Woods - Freeform, Snippet, like a snapshot, literally just a tiny uncompleted drabble, not even complete, older!Sarah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 00:39:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3830701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarveniraven/pseuds/sarveniraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I wish, more than anything, more than life, more than jewels…</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A tiny little snapshot of Sarah as Cinderella in her college's production of Into the Woods and the ensuing ridiculousness after she sings her first "I wish."</p><p>Be warned, it's really short, completely unrevised, and incomplete. Honestly, it's just a drabble to get me back into the habit of writing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wish...

“I wish—” she starts. She cuts herself off quickly, frozen for a moment with her eyes wide and lines completely forgotten. The music director stops the pit band and whirls on her, his thick eyebrows raised so high they recede under his hair.

“Yes, sorry, Mr. Daniels. I know, I know,” Sarah replies to his look, hands raised in surrender. “I just—um. Got nervous for a second.”

The man folds his arms over his chest. “This is the first time you’ve sung it aloud. I’m going to need you to actually go for it or this rehearsal will never progress. Yes?”

“Yes, of course,” she responds, giving him her best half-smile. “I’m ready.”

Mr. Daniels nods curtly and turns back to the band, poised to go.

“I wish,” Sarah sings, still apprehensive, “more than anything, more than life, more than jewels…”

Her other cast members pop in their voices here and there, characters wishing their respective wishes, and she waits her turn until her lines come up again: “The king is giving a festival. I wish to go to the festival and the ball!”

Flinching after her second line, she is relieved when nothing immediately occurs. Sarah is not immediately whisked away, the Prologue goes on, and although she is happy that the granter of wishes apparently has some discretion between real wishes and fake, she is also a bit disappointed. Not that the Goblin King showing up in the middle of Into the Woods rehearsal would be a _good_ thing, but it would certainly be interesting.

She vaguely wonders if Jareth looks just as she remembers him and in doing so misses her line, much to Mr. Daniels’s annoyance. He subsequently cancels rehearsal due to an “airheaded Cinderella” and a headache.

As Sarah leaves the theatre, waving goodbye to the rest of her cast, the air weighs heavy in her lungs, more so than it ought to on such a clear day. It’s all the humid mass of a thunderstorm rolling in, but the sky is cloudless and bright above her, the sun warming her shoulders with a gentle caress of its rays. Shaking her head, she ignores it for the time being as she fumbles with the lock on her car door and yanks the door open.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise, Precious?”

In that moment she realizes the Goblin King has less discretion than she gave him credit for.

“Jareth,” she responds between gritted teeth. “That was not a real wish, as you should know very well.”

“A wish, nonetheless,” he tells her with a Cheshire grin, and she realizes just how oddly he contrasts to the drab grey of her little beat-up car. “The first one you’ve made aloud in five years. Stubborn, determined girl, how you managed it is anyone’s guess. But this, however, this was just enough of a wish to allow me a visit.”

“God, I’d forgotten how much glitter you come with. If you leave that shit in my car, Jareth—” Sarah dropped the sentence before the end, realizing just who she was scolding. Sighing inwardly, she fixed him with a suspicious glare. “What exactly did you come here to do, then, _Your Majesty_?”

“Sarah, darling, may I not pay you a simple leisurely visit?” Jareth inquired innocently, reaching to stroke one gloved finger down her face and receiving a swat from Sarah for his efforts. It only made him smile wider. “No, apparently not. Very well, then, I am required to answer your wish once I have responded at all, Precious, so I shall have to do just that.”

With a groan, Sarah glared at the cigarette burn on her car ceiling and said nothing for a few moments. Finally, she asked, “A festival, then, Jareth?”

“And a ball,” he added, “the likes of which you’ve never seen.”


End file.
